


Capturing Her

by CarolareScarletus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Camera, Capture, F/M, HS, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-24 23:55:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13822122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarolareScarletus/pseuds/CarolareScarletus
Summary: When a party in the Slytherin’s common room ends with a bet, how will Theo cater to proving the Gryffindor is more than worthy of being captured? “There has to be more than meets the eye, Granger,” he breathed, insinuating something far deeper than either of them could begin to imagine. Theo held up his camera, aiming it right at her. “Let me be the one to capture it.”





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

**Title:** Capturing Her

**Author:** Carolare Scarletus

**Characters:** Hermione Granger; Theodore Nott; Marcus Flint; Draco Malfoy; Harry Potter; Ron Weasley

**Universe:** AU

**Warnings:** Off and on-screen alcohol consumption, sexual intercourse- including oral, anal, and vaginal, and mention of narcotics.

**Author’s Note:** My first attempt at this pairing. I hope I live up to everyone expectations!

**Summary:** When a party in the Slytherin’s common room ends with a bet, how will Theo cater to proving the Gryffindor is more than worthy of being captured? “There has to be more than meets the eye, Granger,” he breathed, insinuating something far deeper than either of them could begin to imagine. Theo held up his camera, aiming it right at her. “Let me be the one to capture it.”

**Disclaimer** (because I always forget) – I don’t own Theodore Nott, but if I did… ;)

 

* * *

 

**September 16 th , 1997**

**Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland.**

**Slytherin Common Room.**

 

Theodore Nott was standing in the back of the common room, toying with his newly acquired camera he had gotten his hands on some months ago. Though his father disapproved, the Pureblood was trying to fix it when someone came up to him and handed him a drink. Marcus Flint, one of the many heartthrobs of the school, was his date and was clearly determined to get him drunk off his arse before the night ended. Though, Theo preferred an inebriated Flint over his own intoxication, which was always an interesting capture. Not to mention, he was the perfect subject for the school’s newspaper. McGonagall was sure to have his arse for it, but hey, one only lived once. Marcus had been the one to pull him from his room and down to the party. He was unsociable, especially when it came to his passion. Little did he know that he needn’t have to spike his drink or keep pressuring him into taking glasses from him. If he secretly planned to take him all night long, then he was going to enjoy capturing every second of it. Theo took the glass nonetheless, checked it for roofies, and took a long pull of it when he found it safe.

“Will you stop toying with that damn thing?” he hissed in irritation. “I feel like those girls who complain that their dates aren’t paying enough attention to them.”

“You sound like one of those girls,” he murmured, eyeing something on the side of his camera. “Almost done. I must adjust something. Ah! There!”

Something clicked to a close, and Theo held up the old-fashioned camera in his hands triumphantly.

“Will you please put it away?”

Theo looked up at him. “Did you just say ‘please’?”

Marcus snarled, and he laughed.

“Alright, I’ll put it up. I’ll just use another one.”

 

“Another one?” asked the light-haired boy. “For what?”

“When I’m fucking you into the bedpost.” Theo grinned as Marcus’ eyes widened and looked away.

“Why do you have to say stuff like that?” he hissed. “Do you know what people are saying about us?”

“That we’re devilishly good looking, and we should fuck already?”

Marcus didn’t laugh.

The taller boy didn’t seem to know what he was referring to, or wanted to comment on the matter. In fact, he wasn’t thinking about anything except the way he could capture every perfect moment they’ve shared between them. Even now, as the seconds passed, he was missing valuable opportunities for exploitation. Marcus was his most recent one. Four months of knowing about what happened between him and Malfoy had Theo contemplating a lot of things. One of which, Theo didn’t know that Malfoy liked guys until he let it slip during Professor Snape’s lecture. A photo of their rendezvous was passed around, giving every girl who’s had a crush on the blonde a run for their money. Even Snape looked scandalized. It played almost in the same way. Draco wasn’t much for parties, either. Marcus had loved him for years, and continued to pursue him. During a party almost like this, he confronted the blonde in the back of the common room. Of course. The fucking bastard managed to get himself, along with half of the House, drunk and finally confessed to him. One thing led to another and they were surrounded by hundreds of photos, all scattered across his room. It was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and the most tragic because the three of them got a month’s worth detention for promoting nudity in the school. 

Well, second.

The first was of a certain Gryffindor that seemed to think that he didn’t exist.

“I don’t know why you even bother.” Marcus told him softly. He could see the burning desire in his eyes as Theo looked at the witch from across the room, his fingers twitching. He wanted to capture her. “She’s not into you.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“You’re not going to tell her, are you?” The older Slytherin had a point. There was no chance in hell that she would even want to be a part of what he was offering. It would be a concept beyond even her brilliant mind. Theo had to at least try, though. One could never know how desperate he was. “How long have you been taking pictures of her?”

“Long enough to make an encyclopedia of them that the old beetle can stuff herself with.” Theo tilted his head, considering. “You’re right about one thing. I’m think about showing her.”

“You can’t be serious?” Flint almost dropped the plastic cup he’s been holding. He cursed once a splash of the punch got onto his shirt.

He shrugged. “Come on, Marcus. It’s our last year. This time next year, we’ll all be at different Universities and it’ll be the end of all this nonsense. I can’t just have her leave without at least showing her. She already thinks a game as it is.”

“Is it?” Marcus asked, concerned now. “All this time… I always thought it was a game, mate. Can’t see Granger actually falling for those charms.”

“They have yet to work on you.”

 

“Well, good luck. If she slaps you don’t come running to me, yeah?”

“I won’t.” He said in a heavy voice.

Marcus knew that voice but chose to ignore it. He turned and walked away, going back to the punch bowl to spike it even more.

One thing he learned after getting to know him was that Marcus was less intimidating than he led on. Theo was no expert, but when it came to guys, it was best just to leave them alone and let them do their own thing. Thus, as to prove a point, he didn’t even run off to fix the punch in his friend’s absence. He’d really love to see Blaise run naked through the corridors again. That was one thing he’d pay to watch.

Theo walked around with camera in hand and a goofy grin on his face. His vice for the perfect photo had gotten him in a lot of trouble over the years. Detention, slaps across the cheek, and one scandalized Professor Snape. All in all, he’s pleased about the spectacles he could capture, all except for one.

Hermione was a very hard subject to capture. Her ambience, her ethereal glow was something that all inspiring photographers desperately wanted to capture. For the longest time, there was nothing that he could have done to let down the girl’s walls and see her at her most vulnerable. Not until the first time he saw her at the sorting. She was so excited that her whole body trembled. He thought it odd, strange in some aspect. But, it became evident that he knew he wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes from her. He learned very quickly when the moments were best to capture her.

The first time Theodore captured her, she had been in the library. Under the guise of the moon, he snuck into her small nook, exploring the intellectual endeavors that she had come to trample all others in, and the camera just so happened to be aimed at the Muggleborn. One moment lead to another, he pressed a button, and a flash went off. The rest was history, and thus created the need to take a photo of her at every opportunity. She had grown up to be quite the interesting specimen; with wild curly brown hair with streaks of gold woven into her mane, spiced rum eyes and a perfectly matured face, there was no question that Hermione Granger, Golden Girl and Gryffindor’s Princess, had blossomed into a beautiful woman. And, he was determined as ever to capture that beauty, only reserved for him, again.

Theo spent most of his time watching her.

If there was one thing he would never admit it would be that he’s been taking photos secretly throughout their school time together. What she didn’t know, or didn’t realize was that she was quite beautiful. As she adamantly advocated, she wasn’t photogenic, though he had a very hard time believing it. Maybe it was him, but no matter what camera he used, magical or not, it loved her. He just wanted her to see what he saw when he clicked the button and the photo developed. He wanted to show her just how beautiful she really was.

“Smile, Granger!” he told her as he came up to her and pressed the button to his camera.

A flash of golden light erupted before Hermione’s eyes, and once the particles settled and she was finally able to see, she found Theodore Nott smirking smugly in front of her. His camera was poised in front of him, ready to take another shot, but her hands came right up and snatched the dreadful thing from his hands.

“I told you not to take pictures of me,” she sneered dangerously.

“Ah,” he held up a hand, grinning wildly as he spoke,” last time we had this conversation, you told me to stop. Totally a whole different ball-park, sweetheart.”

 

This made the feisty Gryffindor growl.

Whoa, sexy.

The Seventh-year Gryffindor had no time to react as the Slytherin boy positioned his camera and took another unconvincing picture of her. While it developed, he grinned, a kind of twinkling that matched the mischief reaching his eyes. It had been the second time that he caught her off guard, and he was determined to get a good photo of her before the night was through.

This one was looking a bit rough, but he pocketed it anyway.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Nott?” the girl shrieked.

“What does it look like?” he asked, equally harsh. Theo checked the remaining film. “I’m taking another picture. Now, hold still.”

“Not of me, I hope.”

“Do you see anyone else here, Granger?”

Granted, there was no one else in their corner of the room. It wasn’t his fault that some idiot invited her to come, only to succumb to Pany’s charms just minutes after arriving. They’d been in the broom closet for the better part of an hour, and Theodore knew Hermione was growing restless. She had been walking around for a while and decided that she needed a break from all the excitement. Slytherin House knew how to throw a damn good party, even if there were only a handful of students from the graduating class. That didn’t mean she wasn’t angry at him for even attempting to take a picture of her. She hated photos, he knew that. She wasn’t very fond of them, and if that hasn’t gotten through his thick head after seven years, she supposed it never would.

“Suppose you didn’t get it, then?” she said, frowning. She never liked to play the game, but that didn’t stop her from asking. “Just how many times am I going to have to tell you?”

He loved it when she frowned.

“Do that again.”

“W-what?” she stammered, confused.

“Frown,” he told her. “It’s provocative, and the camera’s loving it.”

When she unintentionally did, a soft flash ignited between them and Theo grinned at the veracious scowl as it crossed her features.

“You’re incorrigible.”

Theo shrugged, waving the piece of paper in his hand vigorously. Hermione looked at it with a slight tilt of her head. Despite being Muggleborn, she had no inkling of the type of camera he used, or how long would he have to do that before the photo developed. A couple of minutes he wanted to tell her, but held his tongue. No need to push it just yet.

“Well?”

 

“I won’t know until it develops,” he told her, leaning against a wall. He looked at her, taking note of the simple dress, her hair, and lightly dusted cheeks. “Funny.”

“What’s funny?” she dared to ask.

“You’ve never worn makeup for me, why now?”

“You noticed?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” he breathed, staring at her now.” Makes me want to kiss them…” Of course, Theo wasn’t referring to the natural hue gracing her cheeks. His eyes were on her lips, and she flushed once she realized where his eyes had travelled.

Breaking the silence, Theo proposed something that nearly knocked Hermione off her feet.

“Wanna make a bet?”

“Not really.”

He smiled. “The bet is, if I can capture a good photo of you, you have to go out with me.”

She snorted loudly, finding his proposition too bogus even for her. “Aren’t you going out with Flint?”

“Flint is just a fuck buddy.” He told her with a dazzling smile. A lie, but hey, it riled her up. He was only trying to piss her off as she had done to him. She seriously thought his pictures as nothing more than a joke. “What do you say, Granger? If I can capture you, you must go out with me.

“Sure, Nott. I’ll go out with you. It better be a good photo, though. Or, the bet is off.” Hermione had the nerve to laugh at him. She shook her head, sending those curls of hers to dance around her head.

“Why, want to lose the bet that badly?” he asked, quirking his eyebrow. He was stunned that she agreed.  

“I’m not photogenic.” she simply stated. “And, no. I’m not worried about that stupid bet at all, Nott. I’m just waiting until I prove you wrong.”

“Oh, but what if I prove you wrong?”

“Then, I’ll give you what you want.” She violently slammed the book she was reading and turned to watch him. “Well, has it developed?”

He frowned as he looked down at the photo, cursing softly as he did. “Fuck.”

Theodore had told her time and time again that the art of being photographed was a strenuous and precise thing, but no one ever warned her about just how dangerous it could be. The heavy and sometimes erotic insinuations, the overwhelming details it took to take just the right picture- none of it mattered the second his eyes landed on those beautiful eyes. Nothing broke his fall as he fell; hell would’ve gained a notoriously delicious angel.

“Yea,” he told her softly, looking at the photo then up at her. His voice cracked a bit, and he covered it up with an indifferent look. “Yeah, it has.”

Reaching for something in his back pocket, Theo took out a marker and scribbled something on the front of the polaroid picture. He handed her the photo and watched her assess it. As expected, she didn’t see the potential and thrusted it back to him before she had time to reflect upon what he just caught.

 

“Room of Requirement. I plan on winning this bet, sweetheart.”

Theo didn’t know then, but he would become addicted to the way those lips fitted against his, and the soft satin of her skin against his fingertips.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

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**Author’s Note:** I apologize for the late update. Things at work have gotten a lot more hectic. I recently went to a Wedding for my boss and his wife (They had a small ceremony a year ago, and wanted an actual church wedding) and had to open this entire week. You can thank Maripaz6, an amazing friend of mine, for going through and beta’ing this chapter. I couldn’t have done it without her. And, if you’re reading this chapter, Mari (which I hope), love ya! :* 

_ As always, enjoy _

-Carolare Scarletus

* * *

 

**September 19** **th** **, 1997**

**Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland.**

 

The second his eyes landed on the Prefect, Marcus Flint’s eyes lit up as if he’d stumbled upon diamonds in a cave filled with nothing but muck. He watched from afar, keeping a fair, yet reasonable distance from the boy as he strutted down the corridor, the look of absolute mirth marring his once beautiful face. He knew very well why Theo was pissed; everyone within fifty-feet of the boy could read his aura, and it wasn’t reading well. From the way his brows were knitted together in a permanent scowl to the half-mooned circles underneath his eyes despite the myriad of Sleeping Potions spiked into his juice, anyone with half a quarter of a brain would be able to tell that Theodore Nott, boy wonder and one of the heartthrobs of Slytherin, was hungover off his arse. It was, after all, his doing. And, he couldn’t be any more pleased with the turnout.

That reminded him, Marcus would have to thank Finnegan for smuggling the illegal cocktail in. Merlin knew he’d be dead if Snape had caught him selling in the trade that ran underneath Hogwarts, though he suspected the Potions Master partook in the forbidden substance time to time. How else was he supposed to deal with little shites like himself? He supposed, with Snape, it took more than just a bit of Firewhiskey before class; Marcus was in a league of his own. He prowled the corridor like a leopard, jumping at the first chance to piss Nott off as he walked passed him. 

“Hey, Mr. Prefect-” Marcus started, trying to catch up to him as Theodore parted the mass of students heading toward him.

“Bugger off, Flint,” Theo growled, wincing a little at the sound of his own threat. He continued to walk, ignoring the stares generated by the overly curious students. Clearly, he was in no mood to talk. All the more fun for Flint. Messing with Theodore first thing in the morning was golden, but a pissed off Theo was… priceless. Plus, he was still hammered, which was a bonus. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

Looking ashened, Marcus stopped and placed a hand on his chest. “Did I do something,” he asked as if he didn’t know.

The boy sent him a death glare.

“Alright, alright,” Marcus threw up his hands up defensively. They quickly made their way through a lingering group of Ravenclaw girls, who gave Marcus a flirty and suggestive smirk. “Not going to touch you. I just wanted to say that I hope you feel better and that you look like shite,” he stated with finalty, trying to keep his snicker in check. Though, in the end, he let it slip and within seconds he was laughing and clenching his side as if he’d been cursed. 

Theo shot him a look as they made their way down the corridor. So, this debilitating headache  _ had  _ been his doing. They soon arrived at their classroom, and, of course, the door was locked. Defeated, he pressed his back against the wall, closed his eyes, and tried to tune out Flint’s rapturous laughter with something less evil. Anything would be better than his laughter. “You’re one to talk,” he told him grumpily, his eyes still closed.

“Well, it  _ is  _ hard being me and all. Being this fabulous comes with a price.” He made a dramatic statement of smirking before taking the unoccupied portion of the wall beside him. They stood in silence for a minute, watching as students appeared from the staircase, taking sharp lefts and rights as they hurried to class. The majority of them consisted of second and third years, a shining gem of what life used to be. A life before the hallmarks of a teenage dream and booze. The sound of student’s banter and joking was almost too much for Theodore. He wondered if Madam Pomfrey had anything for hangovers. But, first, he needed to find out what the fuck Marcus put in that punch because he couldn’t possibly be the only one feeling like a train ran over him.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“Well,” he began disdainfully, rubbing his temples with rapid movements,” for one, my roommate doesn’t know how to keep his bloody hands to himself, I’ve got a headache the size of fucking Scotland, and oh, did I mention how much I hate you?”

“I take it she didn’t show up,” Marcus said, grinning. He hadn’t been a firm believer in his rendezvous with the spunky Gryffindor; in fact, Theo knew that he made a bet with Draco that he’d fail. Looked like the heir owed him some Galleons. 

Digging his head into the crook where his elbow met his arm, Theodore ignored the persistent questions of his roommate and focused on how’d he ended up in this mess.

“No shite.”

“I told you so.”

“I’ll get her one of these days,” mumbled Theo. “Though, I was stupid to even think that she’d show up.”

“Is that all you’re thinking about?” Marcus asked, moving to stand next to him. His belongings were tossed onto the floor in a less than ceremonious way; the sound of his satchel hitting the rough wood was like chalk against an old, worn-out board and Theo had to dig his nails into his palms to stop himself from letting a non-verbal slip from his mind. “Aside from Granger finding you absolutely mental, that is.”

“I saw Blaise had some fun the other night.” Theo murmured softly to change the subject, his eyes still closed. “Suppose, that wasn’t your doing, eh?”

“Can’t say I recall.” Marcus feigned innocence, making a grand production of dragging his finger against his jaw. “Remind me that I owe Montague some galleons because Zabini’s performance was priceless. Don’t supposed Snape will turn a blind eye if his picture so happens to find its way into the yearbook?”

“I don’t think so,” he told him. Theodore opened his eyes. “And, I don’t suppose you have anything to get rid of this blasted headache, now do you?”

Marcus shook his head, and he groaned again.

_ Fucking  _ excellent. 

He had another class to get through before he can even think about seeing Madam Pomfrey, and even going up to see the old hag wasn’t a guarantee. Whatever Marcus put in the punch had already sent seven students to the infirmary. And, that’s just only counting from Slytherin. He hadn’t the faintest idea if he’s given his secret concoction of permanent headaches to anyone else. The bastard really  _ was  _ trying to get someone killed.

A determined gleam flickered in his eyes. “What the fuck did you put in that punch?” 

Marcus thought for a second. “Let’s just say… it’s illegal in three countries.”

“ _ Jesus _ ,” Theodore slammed his head against the wall, groaning at the spike of pain as it mingled with the excruciating aftermath of the party. Everything after leaving Granger to think was a blur, and even that was saying something. If it hadn’t been the drink Flint gave him before his encounter with her, then it had to have been after. Shortly after she left, he’d gotten mixed up with Malfoy and Zabini and the rest of the night was history. If he had known he’d wake up to Draco’s naked ass strutting into the room, full of confidence, he would’ve easily believed he was dreaming. But, the narcotics provided by Flint were more realistic and believable than anything he’s ever tried and he vowed in that instant to never drink again, for as long as he lived.

He really did need to stop hanging out with him.

“You know, you’ve been pretty quiet about my antics up until now” began Marcus thoughtfully, looking at him as if he was hiding an inside joke. “I could reward you for keeping your silence, only if you’re up for it, of course. Now, about that potion…” he said, grinning. 

“You fucking prick!”

All Marcus did was laugh as he produced a small vial from his pocket. There was no label on it, so had to have been of his own creation. 

“Been in Snape’s closet. You’d be surprised what you’d find in there…”

“Bloody hell!” Theo hissed, trying to snatch the vial from his grasp. Of course, Marcus was quicker and only proved that the longer he waited to take whatever concoction he came up with, the worse his headache became. “I shouldn’t have listened to you!”

“Maybe it’ll one day to teach you a lesson,” Marcus told him, laughing at the thought Professor Binns gliding into the classroom, ignoring the banter of his class. He’d imagined him taking out his notes as usual, going straight into the lesson without so much as a glance at his audience. It was only when they students garnered too much attention did they relent and lowered their voices. Though, he was known to not even bat an eye at anything. “I still haven’t worked out the ratio with this one, but Potions is a science, isn’t that the Muggle saying?”

“Point taken,” Theodore huffed, eying the vial with true longing. If only he could get it... “And, I don’t care, so long as it doesn’t kill me. Now, gimmie that bloody vial. I still have Potions to get through after this and I’ve been tortured enough.”

“Are you sure,” Flint asked, grinning. He didn’t even stop him when he reached over again, this time taking the vial, and popping the cork out. Tilting his head thoughtfully, he watched Theo gulp the small potion down, one thought clearly on his mind. “One would think he’d realize he’s been dead for more than a century…” Marcus said, smitten. “Catching fire would be a glorious way to go…but, I could do without burning alive.”

“Then, stop trying to pawn fags off of people, Flint,” laughed Theo, wincing at the hole being drilled inside his skull. 

He really needed to stop hanging out with the bastard.

Marcus only smirked.

Just as he was about to say something, he was met with a vision. Like some sort of celestial angel, Granger emerged from the crowd, her hair bouncing as she hurried down the corridor, a determined look on her face.  Theodore watched her for a second before his lips formed an evil grin. Of course, he wasn’t truly devoid of his camera; he was discrete with his plan as he took out a small device from his pocket. He’d been toying it for a while now, and he thought using it on her would be the perfect opportunity to see if it worked. With a non-verbal spell, light erupted between the two of them the moment she passed by him. When it cleared, Granger looked dazedly around her, before she captured his amused eyes and glowered at him for attempting to one-up her.

“Humorous, Nott.” she sneered. Hermione looked between him and Marcus, who only looked at her with marred confusion. “Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“The photo,” she said. “What sort of tomfoolery are you up to now?”

“Tomfoolery, Granger? Theo grinned. “Who says I’m up to anything? I’m just standing here waiting for class to start and minding my own business.”

Hermione wasn’t buying it. “I’m not in the mood for this. Just hand it over, Nott.”

Laughing, Theo caved. He took out his wand, swished in an elegant manner, producing a single sheet from air. He tilted his head slightly in consideration before telling her the verdict.

“Hm, not a masterpiece..” he told her with a smile. “I thought the camera would be ready for moving pieces. But, I’ll get it. Don’t you worry about that.”

He handed her the picture, watching her reaction carefully. As always, it remained the same. Unmoving, uninterested. It was as if the subject of the manner didn’t comply her greater intricacies. She was so hard to please sometimes.

The witch had the fucking nerve to smirk. “Nice one, Nott. But, you can do much better.”

Theodore matched her smirk with one of his own. “Oh, I will. I want this to make yearbook.”

“Then, you might want to see what your friend Zabini did.”

“Said and done. I’m sure it isn’t as extraordinary as what I’m going to capture with you.”

“You say that, but you haven’t delivered yet.” Hermione laughed, shaking her head. For a moment Theo was lost in lost riotous curls and the mischievous curl of her lips. Her beautiful laughter rung pleasantly in his ears. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered the taste of them. His skin grew hot from where their fingers touched, and they instantly curled into tight fists as his brow creased and he looked at her in another angle.

_ Crice,  _ did she know just how gorgeous she was? 

“Will you please move?” Hermione clearly didn’t have time to play. She tossed the sheet back and Theo frowned.

He placed the photo into his back pocket along with his wand, eyeing the girl. “You know, that charm took me  _ months  _ to figure out.”

“And, it’ll take you  _ months  _ to figure out what the hell went wrong. Now, move.”

Chuckling, Theo stepped aside. “See you soon, Granger.”

“Don’t count on it.”

Before he could reply, she was gone. The only thing he had to remember her was the captured expression as she passed before him.

When the door to their classroom finally opened, Flint was the first to enter, along with several other unimportant faces. Theo slowly ambled inside, his eyes casted downward to ward off the pressing lights as they shone above him. He moved toward the back of the classroom, threw his belongings aside, and collapsed into the chair. Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead against the cool surface of the wooden table, counting down the minutes before class would start, and how many more until his last one. God willing that he survived through Hogwarts’ most boring of subjects. Professor Binns was notorious for putting students to eternal sleep. 

“Christ, I don’t know why you even bother with her,” Marcus said as they walked.

“She’s fun to tease,” Theo smiled. “Her expressions are to die for.”

“Well, you might want to be careful with that one. She’s got a short fuse and if you press enough of her buttons, she might combust.”

“I think that’s part of the plan, eh?” He laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I know when to stop.”

“What is your obsession with taking photos?” murmured Marcus.“I mean, I get it. It’s a great outlet and all, but I think you’re overdoing it. Granger’s already told you multiple times that she hates being photographed, so why keep doing it?”

Theodore didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let his memories answer for him.

Ever since the incident in the library, he’s been hooked. And, for some inexplicable reason, it wasn’t  _ about  _ taking pictures of her; it was about wanting to  _ show  _ her just how lovely and rare she was. He’d spent his entire life, an outcast from his family, an heir to a fortune that he didn’t want, the son his father was ashamed of. It was like no one wanted anything to do with him, and, he would’ve been perfectly fine with that. Loneliness had gotten him through a whole list of things, that is until he met her. Enthusiastic wouldn’t begin to describe her; she was so much like rain after a hundred years of endless, scorching heat. Refreshing and he was constantly desperate for it. And, then there was something so profound that he could hardly bear thinking about it, or even admit that the witch had gotten so far under his skin, that he actually  _ found her  _ irresistible. Forget desperate; one way or another, he was going to have her.

Hermione just so happened to be the perfect canvas for his outlet. It was getting her to  _ see  _ the potential that she could offer that he was having trouble with.

“I have to.”

“Nothing is  _ forcing  _ you to do it, Nott.” 

Through the exhausting drilling in his head, Theodore was able to map out what happened after everything went black. He had been too complacent. Theo knew that Granger was too smart to listen to what he had to say, let alone go along with their bet. Though, a sudden thought occurred to him, something about what Flint had said. They hadn’t shaken hands, just exchanged words to solidify their agreement. There was no Unbreakable Vow forcing them to comply. Not even a Dark Mark, the main thing behind the idiotic agreements that sent half of the Professors into fits. Circe knew he wasn’t doing anything like  _ that  _ again, not after what happened last time with Snape.

The thing was, he loved being with her. There were times during patrolling that all he wanted to do was to push her in an enclave but something always forbid it. Some underlying message told him that he shouldn’t do it.

Theodore rested his chin on the desk, deep in thought. The potion was finally kicking in, though in the back of his mind he knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet. God willing that Flint’s potion actually  _ worked _ and he lived, then he’d be more optimistic. Suppose she was willing to go through with it, he had to come up with something that would just dazzle her. Make her lost for words (and, knowing her brilliant mind, he might as well start the end of the world). The world would literally stop spinning. Hermione speechless, blimey.  He’d die to see that, like he’d die to forget what Malfoy had done three weeks ago before their last term started. He really needed to start evaluating his friendship with Flint; he was more likely to kill him with his damn drugs than help him win Granger over. As he thought, something deep down snared his attention and he closed his eyes, momentarily forgetting his blasted headache and the deep numbness in his chest.

“That’s true, but this is something I’ve got to do.” he murmured softly.

“Whatever you’re planning, Nott, Granger isn’t like that,” Marcus told him, his tone serious. “And, you’re not the first who’s tried to garner her attention. So, whatever you’re planning, it would be best to just forget about it. I’d hate to see her get hurt.”

“You think this is a joke?” Theodore sneered.

“Then, what the fuck is it?” Marcus retaliated with his own domineering snarl. His eyes paved the way to what he was feeling. “I’ve known you all my life, Teddy. You’re no saint, and to lead some poor, innocent girl on is just as bad as committing murder.

“How do you know this?”

For once, Marcus looked genuinely concerned. 

“Because she’s told me,” he finally told him. “ Since fifth year, we’ve been partnered up for loads of stuff like balls and patrol. I’ve seen loads of blokes trying to win her over, but she never once fell for them. If she did, I wouldn’t know. She’s had a crush on Weslebee since second year and has been trying to garner his attention since then. Why girls always fall for the dumb ones is beyond me.”

“The same goes for why they fall for the ones who has the means to kill them,” mumbled Theo thoughtfully. He shook his head. “I know Granger isn’t like that. She’s… different. Illuminating, even. I just have to find the right angle to catch her.”

“Is this some sort of weird photographer talk?” he asked. “You know how I feel about that shite.”

“Maybe it is,” he told him with a grin. “I just need to find the right light.”

“Well, I’d be careful there, mate.” Marcus murmured as he leaned back against his chair, looking ahead. “She’s been hurt before, Teddy. Circe, she’d  _ kill me  _ if she found out I told anyone, but I know about it. Remember last year when Potter won the first Quidditch game and the Gryffindors were heard celebrating all night long? Well, she tried to find Weasley and when she did, well you can imagine what she stumbled upon. I don’t think her heart can take being rejected, and for seventeen year-old girl, that naive sense of love still exists even now. I just don’t want you to end up hurting her. She doesn’t deserve it.”

“Yea,” Theo nodded, his thoughts whirling even as he came back to earth. The words only swirled around his mind, having no time to settle at all. “Yea, Flint. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Thanks, Mate.”

Then, everything was quiet.

Class went on without a hitch, and he was left to think. 

Theodore was speechless. 

Never did he imagine that the know-it-all bookworm could’ve been infatuated by the moron Weaselbee, but to find that he was secretly going out with the clueless swine Lavender Brown must have been devastating within its own right. Sure, love comes and goes, and Hermione  _ must have  _ found something admirable in him, but that didn’t dissolve the sharp pain within his chest at the thought of someone leading Hermione on for so many years just to reject them in the worst possible way. For his best mate to even  _ suggest  _ that was what was going on made him mad. Inside, he was fuming. Weasley had the chance to show her just how valuable and precious she was, yet he didn’t.

Marcus wasn’t a horrible guy at all, he is only greatest asset was to be an ass, but he wouldn’t lie to him. His words echoed in his head even after class ended and Theo was making his way to his next class.

_ Mental, absolutely and irrevocably mental,  _ he thought.

In that moment, Theodore decided he’d be the one to show her.

 


End file.
